


don't worry about my feelings

by jamesiee, Rianne



Series: a history of hazing [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Hazeapolooza 2011, Mention of underage drinking, misogynistic language, reference to drug overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesiee/pseuds/jamesiee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rianne/pseuds/Rianne
Summary: Jack debates how surprised he should look when opens the door to be taken to some unknown location to do some dumb ritual. He bites back a grin; coaching a team isn’t the same as being on a team and he’s just realized how much he’s missed it.Outside there’s a muttered game of rock, paper, scissors.Based on thistumblr post: "good morning, the real reason jack didn’t take part in hazeapalooza as a frog wasn’t because he ducked out and avoided it but because the upperclassmen ‘forgot’ to kidnap him from his dorm and include him" bybshitty





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [tumblr post](https://bshitty.tumblr.com/post/159039535467/good-morning-the-real-reason-jack-didnt-take) : "good morning, the real reason jack didn’t take part in hazeapalooza as a frog wasn’t because he ducked out and avoided it but because the upperclassmen ‘forgot’ to kidnap him from his dorm and include him" by bshitty
> 
> Completely unbeta'd so any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own. Please, please let me know if there's anything else I have to tag! My [tumblr](http://chocolatechipcookiesplease.tumblr.com%20).
> 
> EDIT: 03/04/17-- There's a sequel in the end notes!!!! (soz, you gotta feel these feels before you get those happy feels)

 

Jack is taking a break from his History 110 reading, earbuds tucked into the collar of his shirt and Fruit Ninja loading on his phone, when he hears footsteps come down the hallway. They stop outside his room.

Jack looks at the door. He’s pretty sure it isn’t Shitty, who’s in a group meeting and was narrating the whole thing via text until he suddenly wasn’t, and other than the R.A. who did a room check the first week of September, no one else has bothered Jack while he’s in his room. It’s one of the reasons he prefers to do his reading intensive work there; no one stares when he mouths along to the reading.

Music is still coming out of the earbuds, soft and tinny, and Jack pulls them out of his collar and taps at the click wheel to pause his ipod, ears straining. He doesn’t think he missed hearing footsteps walk away but not knowing if someone is on the other side of the door is annoying so he gets up to check. His hand is almost on the doorknob when he hears whispered voices.

“Don’t be a pussy, Alf, c’mon.”

“Fuck you Schmaltzy, why do I gotta knock?”

Alf and Schmaltzy are seniors on the hockey team, both forwards, both on the second line, and both nasty on the ice. Jack hasn’t been at Samwell long enough to know much about them off the ice, but if they’re the ones at his door, he’s pretty sure neither come bearing bad news.

If Jack knows anything about hockey teams, and he has been on more than he can count on both hands, they’re here to start his Wellie hazing. He privately thinks they’ve left it quite late considering that their first game is on Friday and they should be loading up on high-quality carbs, not the empty calories of the ceremonial beer he’s sure will be passed around, but he's not captain so what does his opinion matter? Jack starts to wonder if this hazing will be better or worse than the one at Bear’s house that welcomed him and Kent onto Rimouski before realizing he actually has no memory of that party to compare this one to. He shakes his head to stamp down on that train of thought, and debates how surprised he should look when opens the door to be taken to some unknown location to do some dumb ritual. Jack bites back a grin; coaching a team isn’t the same as being on a team and he’s just realized how much he’s missed it.

Outside there’s a muttered game of rock, paper, scissors.

“Fuuuuuck.” He thinks that’s Schmaltzy. “One more time, c’mon.”

“You lost man.”

“We both fucking lost, having to get Zimmermann… what if he’s in the middle of a line?”

Jack’s stomach bottoms out. He tries to swallow past the thick taste of bile in his throat, but his mouth’s too dry suddenly. He clenches his fists, letting his nails bite into his palm. He knows there are rumours, he fucking knows. He’s so fucking stupid to think that they don’t know the rumours too just because no one’s said anything to him.  

Alf snorts. “Stop being a bitch and knock.”

“What if I didn’t knock and we tell Busher that we couldn’t find him?”

“He said we’re supposed to get Zimmermann, not bitch out.”

“It’s not a bitch out. We checked his room; he wasn’t there.”

“Fine,” Alf sighs after a moment. “But if anyone asks, forgetting Zimmermann was your idea.”

“Who the fuck’s gonna ask? The only one who talks to him is Knight and he’s probably already too blasted to notice.”

However Alf replies is lost as he and Schmaltzy start back down the hallway and Jack remembers how to breathe again.

He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out through his nose. He does that three more times before he’s able to unclench muscles he didn’t know he was clenching and move from the spot in front of the door. He goes back to his desk, reminding himself to keep breathing the whole way.

This isn’t a panic attack, he tells himself, so he doesn’t reach for the pill bottle he has for emergencies. He’ll have to tell Angie about it when they meet on Monday though, but that’s fine. He picks up his pen and makes a note to remind himself, ignoring that his hands are shaking so badly that the words aren’t really legible. He’s sure he’ll remember. He shoves his earbuds into his ears and presses play. It’s not loud enough so he rolls his thumb along the click wheel until he can feel the bassline in his teeth.

It’s fine.

He picks up the textbook and reads.

This is fine; he’s busy.

It’s nice the team knows.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My working title was Jack-no-palooza
> 
> EDIT: 03/04/17-- Rianne wrote the [perfect balm to the soothe the feels that this might've left behind](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10533387). PLEASE GO READ! (I'm dead, RIP in pieces me)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [this feeling will grow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533387) by [jamesiee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesiee/pseuds/jamesiee), [Rianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rianne/pseuds/Rianne)




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